The Legacy of Christmas
By Shelly Thompson
Some parts taken from 'Heart of a Warrior' By Shelly Thompson
Each year…I unpack my grandma, Millie McKeever’s, faux stole she wore every year to the Christmas Eve service at church. I left the two heart pins exactly where they were when she last wore it. I’ve also kept the original bag she stored it in and the hanger made by my great grandmother, Sarah Isabelle McKeever.
By Shelly Thompson
Some parts taken from 'Heart of a Warrior' By Shelly Thompson
Each year…I unpack my grandma, Millie McKeever’s, faux stole she wore every year to the Christmas Eve service at church. I left the two heart pins exactly where they were when she last wore it. I’ve also kept the original bag she stored it in and the hanger made by my great grandmother, Sarah Isabelle McKeever.
This is exactly the way I received my grandmother's faux fur stole over 20 years ago.
There’s always a flood of wonderful memories that come back to me as I dress my 1914 dress form with my grandmother's faux stole. These memories…to me…are what Christmas is all about. Remembering...remembering the birth of Jesus and the blessings God has given us. I am thankful, grateful, and blessed beyond measure by the legacy that was left for me to pass on to the next generation.
Each year I get my grandmother's faux stole out and display it on a mannequin.
My grandmother always wore a faux fur cape with two heart pins to the Christmas Eve church service. We would walk down the squeaky wooden floors of the church to a pew very close to the front. It was beautiful as the snow was falling outside the big church windows, but inside the old church was pure warmth. The organist and pianist would walk up the creaky floors, the click of their shoes echoing throughout the quiet sanctuary as they took their places to begin the music. Then in one swift movement the small congregation was on their feet singing Christmas hymns. Over the years, those lyrics became etched in my heart.
I remember standing next to my grandma as she loudly sang the words from her heart, although sometimes a little off key. As her voice professed belief in every word of the song lyrics...there was a joy that radiated from her. For a few moments...time stood still in that old church...all was bright...there was peace on earth and mercy mild, the night was silent and holy...the manger was no longer awaiting the arrival of a King...the tiny Christ child whose message was shared all year from that pulpit...was finally here, in our waiting Bethlehem. He had arrived in the little church...not in a physical presence, but in the spirit of the hearts of those voices blending together to welcome Him.
I remember standing next to my grandma as she loudly sang the words from her heart, although sometimes a little off key. As her voice professed belief in every word of the song lyrics...there was a joy that radiated from her. For a few moments...time stood still in that old church...all was bright...there was peace on earth and mercy mild, the night was silent and holy...the manger was no longer awaiting the arrival of a King...the tiny Christ child whose message was shared all year from that pulpit...was finally here, in our waiting Bethlehem. He had arrived in the little church...not in a physical presence, but in the spirit of the hearts of those voices blending together to welcome Him.
The minister would step to the pulpit and read the passage of scripture from Luke 2:11 proclaiming His birth...Today, in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.
In that small church with the creaky wooden floors and slightly off key singing...there He was, the baby Jesus...
Front and center...
Receiving all the glory this little congregation of faithful believers could muster from their hearts. They were not affluent, high profile, or well-known citizens, but they welcomed Him. They taught the gospel faithfully about Him. They opened Bibles each week and grew closer to Him. They heard and believed that Jesus Christ was God’s one and only son. They shared weddings and funerals in this sacred place. There had been joy and sorrow in these hallowed walls.
But for one night...all was calm and all was bright...joy filled the space...peace filled each heart...He was, Immanuel...God with them...
Front and center...
Every Christmas, in my heart I visit that church...I hear the creaky wooden floors...I see my grandmother beside me...I feel a special joy...and I am reminded to make Jesus front and center in my life. The world tells us to fill our manger with other things...
But that little congregation had it right...
In that small church with the creaky wooden floors and slightly off key singing...there He was, the baby Jesus...
Front and center...
Receiving all the glory this little congregation of faithful believers could muster from their hearts. They were not affluent, high profile, or well-known citizens, but they welcomed Him. They taught the gospel faithfully about Him. They opened Bibles each week and grew closer to Him. They heard and believed that Jesus Christ was God’s one and only son. They shared weddings and funerals in this sacred place. There had been joy and sorrow in these hallowed walls.
But for one night...all was calm and all was bright...joy filled the space...peace filled each heart...He was, Immanuel...God with them...
Front and center...
Every Christmas, in my heart I visit that church...I hear the creaky wooden floors...I see my grandmother beside me...I feel a special joy...and I am reminded to make Jesus front and center in my life. The world tells us to fill our manger with other things...
But that little congregation had it right...
The real meaning of Christmas was always front and center at my grandmother's little church.
Jesus should be front and center...
Each year as I get my grandmother’s faux fur Christmas cape out, sometimes accompanied by a few tears...and place it on my dress form in my kitchen...I can see her in that little church she loved so much...knowing that she’s singing in the choir now with the BIG church...joined by heavenly hosts...I am so thankful for her Godly influence and example in my life...showing me how...to make Jesus front and center. Every time I hear a Christmas carol, I am reminded of the wonderful Christmas memories of long ago...Christmas music is at the heart of Christmas.
Each year as I get my grandmother’s faux fur Christmas cape out, sometimes accompanied by a few tears...and place it on my dress form in my kitchen...I can see her in that little church she loved so much...knowing that she’s singing in the choir now with the BIG church...joined by heavenly hosts...I am so thankful for her Godly influence and example in my life...showing me how...to make Jesus front and center. Every time I hear a Christmas carol, I am reminded of the wonderful Christmas memories of long ago...Christmas music is at the heart of Christmas.
This is the way I received the faux stole. I never even moved the pins from where she had them.
And there were shepherds residing in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks by night. Just then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid! For behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people: Today in the city of David a Savior has been born to you. He is Christ the Lord! And this will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” Luke 2:8-12